Culture Shock
by something someone said
Summary: Akira's new assignment: teach an alien how to blend in with human society. But it's not so easy when that alien is Haru, who probably wouldn't blend in with human society even if he was a human to begin with.


Disclaimer: I don't own Tsuritama.

_I wrote this about a year ago, but the other day I was like, "I miss Tsuritama," so I finally finished it._

* * *

By the time they left Sapporo, Haru's hand had stopped gripping the seat. They were cruising at an easy speed, the landscape around them in the diluted colors of winter, even though it was merely late September. Akira took the weather as a sign, a signal, but he couldn't tell what kind of sign it was, what it was trying to tell him or why.

"When can I go back?" Haru asked. He didn't sound frightened or even concerned, like the scenery outside had put him into a quiet kind of trance. This worried Akira. Haru should never be quiet.

"It won't take long," Akira replied, his voice sounding more clipped than usual when he had meant to sound reassuring. He distracted himself with thoughts of Tapioca. He had left her with her lover in that sunny country from his last assignment. Right now she was probably splashing around in a puddle full of sunlight. She'd be happy there, not in this abysmal weather. Not with this less than exciting mission.

"Not long at all."

His new mission was alien psychotherapy, or something like it. He wasn't quite sure how to define it, or what he really was supposed to do anyway. There was very little written on the alien psyche when he had been training for DUCK, just a slim booklet with fragments of case studies. Mostly DUCK agents hadn't been concerned with how aliens felt, only how they feltabout _leaving_.

But if Haru would be living among humans for what Akira guessed was a while, he would have to start blending in with humans so that DUCK actually looked like it was doing its job.

So it was that he was assigned by DUCK to try to _humanize_ Haru. How did one humanize an alien?, he kept asking himself. The answer never came, and as the landscape grew rapidly more winter-bound, he thought about casting a fishing line into a warmer, bluer expanse. If only everything could be _that_ simple.

They arrived at the outpost at around 4:00 in the afternoon. At least, Akira regarded it as an outpost, though it was more akin to a small cabin in the middle of nowhere. To the paranoid, it would seem absolutely sinister in its remoteness. Of course, this _was_ a DUCK outcropping where alien research went on, but that was all it was. There was no secret laboratory underneath, no high tech computer system in the walls. Heck, the place didn't even have central heating: it was simply a place that one wouldn't get too distracted in. Akira didn't need any distractions for this job, and Haru, the prince of distractions, might finally learn how to concentrate.

That was what Akira hoped, for the alien's sake as well as his.

* * *

"First of all, humans drink water. They do not pour it over their heads except-" The first lesson had started. Akira had positioned himself in front of the chalkboard (really? chalk? DUCK had done a fine job of ignoring this place since the 1980's).

"But I saw on television one time-" Haru piped up.

"Except in certain situations."

"I think it was something called soccer. Yuki thought it was interesting. I miss Yuki. Will we be going back to Enoshima soon?"

Their first lesson was not going well. Akira should have expected as much. He looked at the boxes stacked against the wall. Food, fuel, kitchen utensils and DUCK gadgets. They'd be able to survive quite a long time here, but Akira wasn't too keen on the idea of being here for any longer than he had to be.

"You shouldn't interrupt me when I talk." He paced around the room. It was on the smallish side and had none of DUCK's usual gaudy finishings, but Akira appreciated the lack of sentiment. "It's very important that you learn this quickly. Now let's move on. Some think human history started with the beginnings of the civilization, but in fact it's much broader than that..."

Haru fell asleep halfway through Mesopotamia.

* * *

Akira had brought old black and white spy films with him as a way to entertain himself. It wasn't working very well, particularly because he had never really watched old spy films before. It seemed like the sort of thing he might have liked, but right now he couldn't follow it. He had no idea who the bad guys were or who the good guys were or if this was the kind of movie that didn't have any of either.

Beside him Haru dozed off, a toe dipped precariously in a small dish of water. His wan complexion was illuminated by the television screen, at times lighter, at times darker than it actually was.

Of the things Akira regretted, following Haru around in Enoshima was not one of them. He had expected to deal with supernatural forces and an international crisis. He had not expected to make friendships and discover his love for fishing.

He turned away from the movie and wrote in his case journal.

_Progress is minimal. Subject, formerly known as JF-1, now known as Haru, retains little of what he is taught through traditional lecture methods. Whether it reflects his species as a whole or is merely a singular comprehension rate remains to be seen. Lessons suspended after subject fell asleep during history lecture. Will also investigate if such teaching methods are actually sleep inducing. _

Akira sighed. On the screen a black and white man brandished a black and white gun. He shot the other black and white man and there might have been some blood involved but it was just as black and white as the rest of the movie.

"I wanted to learn how to play soccer, but Yuki said that the point of the game was not pouring a water cooler over your head," Haru mumbled. It was close to sleep talk.

Akira didn't know how to respond to that so he turned the movie off and readied himself for bed. It seemed that Haru had claimed the couch in the parlor, so Akira found a small side room and laid a sleeping roll down. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long before he left this place. He hoped he dreamed of fishing.

* * *

A long, white, blank cloud hung over the house the next morning. Akira ached for some break in the monotony but the cloud seemed resigned to hang over him in bland defiance.

Today, he was introducing Haru to handshaking. The table had been cleared of the breakfast mess and had resumed its normal school desk functionality.

"Usually the most important thing to remember is to not _say_ you're an alien." Akira held out his hand and Haru took it.

"But I _am_ an alien," Haru pouted, his grip falling slack.

"Yes," Akira squeezed his hand and then released it. "But don't say that you are. Now from the top."

"Hello," Haru started, shaking his hand with a less than sure grip. "My name is Haru and...I am... I am... not an alien." His voice petered out at the end.

Akira returned his attention to the window, thinking of ways to best teach the alien on the essential concepts of integrating into human society. Some part of him wanted to get up on the table and demand why Haru couldn't learn these easy human interactions. _It's for your own good!_ But that part of him was easily distracted by the blankness of the landscape outside; it was grayish-white, like the preliminary wash of a watercolor. The trees were thin and leafless. _Lifeless_, Akira thought.

There's nothing there, Akira told himself. If anything, it's supposed to _not_ distract you.

Still, his eyes looked hopelessly for something, anything, an easier way to teach Haru, or to get out of the mission altogether.

* * *

_Three days since start of mission. Progress remains slow if at all. Subject retains alien habits despite being told repeatedly that such habits are _not_ human. Caught subject in the act of pouring water over his head instead of drinking it yet again._

* * *

In a fit of boredom-or resourcefulness (Akira was sure it was the former)-he started to go through the DUCK gadgets, packed in boxes high to the ceiling. He unpacked the Galactic Orientation Orbit Station Equipment, the Terrestrial Underwater Radio Key and the Changeable Hydration Intermittent Cooler Kit. At the bottom he found the industrial hair dryers DUCK had used in Enoshima. _ How thoughtful of them_, Akira grimaced.

He had left Haru to his own devices. In truth, Haru had given up on telephone greetings and was now coloring in the margins of his human interactions handbook.

Akira didn't remember bringing crayons along, but perhaps the alien had an arsenal of colorful things stashed somewhere.

He carefully packed the objects back. He wouldn't need any of it. What he did need was a piece of technology that could teach Haru but he knew DUCK had never invented anything like that. They had the proper weapon for any situation an extra-terristrial threw at them, but their methods of communication never became more advanced than the occasional megaphone.

* * *

After he had packed and repacked the DUCK equipment and found Haru's secret cache of colorful objects (a box of crayons, a fishing lure, a Ping-Pong paddle and several candy wrappers), Akira took a walk around the place. He could later write in his journal that he was securing the perimeter, but what he really wanted to do was to go outside and think.

He passed the dead trees, thinking about how unteachable Haru was and how best to report back on this failed assignment. He probably would get reassigned as Haru's semi-permanent observer, which he wouldn't mind in the least. Still, he felt like a failure. Like the time he had been demoted in DUCK. He had to pack up his office, like packing up the DUCK equipment, and was moved to a small cubicle. At the time, he thought it was the worst thing that could have happened to him. Now he thought it was the best, except for that little bit about the tea.

The cafeteria had stopped supplying chai after he had been stripped of his rank. Now they served breakfast black, a bland, tasteless brew without any spice.

But besides that, being demoted was probably the best thing that ever happened to him, because he had been reassigned to field work, which he should have traded for that paper pusher job years ago. He could understand his demotion, he was even happy about it, but why change the tea?

He was interrupted from his thoughts by Haru.

"Yuki! It's Yuki!" Haru yelled from the window.

Akira was frozen in place-he didn't remember giving away his coordinates to the red head, let alone any civilians. Was he really that easy to track? Maybe he did deserve to be demoted after all.

But, when he looked around, at Haru's smiling face, he realized his error. He had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't noticed the tiny sparkles falling from the sky. Without any hesitation he hurried back into the cabin and told Haru they were going to take the rest of the day off.

* * *

That night the snow fell in torrents and drizzles, tantrums and giggles. It drove Akira crazy. Although a DUCK agent had to be prepared for anything (inclement weather included), he could feel his blood pulsing for warmer climates. How was India at this time of year? He tried to remember, but his younger life felt like a seedpod canoe drifting off in a sea of whiteness. He tried to remember the smell of the place-something earthy, something alive-but couldn't. Here it didn't smell like anything in particular.

That should have bothered him, should have left him with some gnawing void in his gut, but it didn't.

He studied the grayish floors, the grayish walls and breathed in deeply. Nothing seemed out of place, and, as a person whose job it was to look for things that _were_ out of place, this cabin was certainly easy on the eyes. Perhaps not everyone was as observant as he was. Perhaps Haru could pass for a human, albeit a very weird human, without much instruction. Still, his stomach turned at the apprehension of some over-observant, zealous civilian exposing Haru as an alien.

And for the first time, he realized he wasn't just doing _a job_, he was protecting Haru from the horrors of human curiosity.

* * *

The next day he woke later than usual. It was probably because he didn't feel like unwrapping himself from the cocoon of blankets he had wrapped himself in during the night.

He got dressed slowly, putting on an extra jacket even though he felt the cold was more psychological than physical. The small heater in the room was actually doing a superb job; if only he could have said the same for himself.

He didn't see Haru in the living room so he made for the door. The first thing Akira saw when he stepped outside was a white landscape and Haru's complete inability to blend in with the surrounding area. It was white on white on white on white and on top of that was a boy with bright yellow hair and a pink pokadot sweater.

"Akira!" Haru smiled as he noticed him.

"Haru," Akira said in greeting. The snow crunched under his feet. It was a weird feeling, solid but inconsistent.

"I don't think I'd ever go dry in this," Haru said, catching snowflakes with his fingertips.

"It is just water after all." Akira observed Haru's hands. They seemed warm despite sitting in the snow. He didn't know how long that would last. "But there is less moisture in the air, so be careful."

"Okay, okay," said the boy, standing up, sending a dusting of snow sparkling in his wake. It sparkled like diamonds, like someone had actually took the time to cut each one to dramatic perfection.

It was beautiful, but Akira's mind was elsewhere, searching for a solution to a problem that didn't exist.

* * *

One thing about the house was the vast silence it contained. Each footstep sounded like it could trample a small village, a tiny cough was a cry from a distant land. So it surprised Akira very much when he woke to screaming.

At first he thought the screaming was in his head, the remnants from some nightmare he was just waking out of. Then he thought better of it and rushed to the living room.

Haru was shouting and it took some time to realize that the water had frozen around his foot.

"It's so cooold!" Haru cried, shivering at every syllable.

Akira grabbed his ankle and examined the container of water. It looked like it had only frozen over the top. He'd need something to break the ice and he reached for the closest object. It was Haru's human interactions manual. He bundled up the book and pierced the frozen water with it.

The ice broke and Haru quickly pulled his foot out, covering it with his hand.

"It _huuurts_!"

"Here, let me see it." Akira took the foot. It was cold and the toenails were blue. He moved Haru to his bedroll and placed his foot by the heater.

He waited, although he wasn't sure what he was waiting for. He was sure Haru had fallen asleep by then, until he heard something from inside the blankets.

"Ice and snow are the same thing right?"

"Well, not exactly. Snow falls from the atmosphere, ice forms when water gets too cold."

"But it's all water right?"

"Yeah, I suppose it is."

There was a long pause.

"When can I go back home?"

Akira smiled. "We'll leave tomorrow."

"Do I still have to become human?"

Akira shook his head. "You're a life form composed of mostly water, right?"

Haru nodded.

"Then I don't think we're so different after all."

* * *

_Lessons terminated permanently. After careful assessment, it was the decision of the primary researcher to end the experiment. Subject, known as Haru, will return to Enoshima to resume former lifestyle. Primary researcher will also return to Enoshima to ensure subject's safety and well-being._

_Remarks: It is the hope of the researcher that subject will benefit from an experience of total immersion in a vibrant, human community. It is also the hope of the researcher that Haru continue to be who he is, as there is, undoubtedly, nothing wrong with him._

_End of report._


End file.
